Bat-Dude vs Spandex Boy
by Miss-Murdered
Summary: After the colonial wars, Duo takes a job dressing up as a superhero to promote a club. It was an easy job... until a rival superhero arrives. 1x2


Disclaimer: Don't own

Pairings/Warnings: 1x2, AU, superhero costumes, kissing, implications of sex, some language, humour-ish?

* * *

 **Bat-Dude vs Spandex Boy**

There were very few jobs around. Especially not for a low-skilled war veteran with no birth certificate or real name. Duo Maxwell had found the colonial wars an opportunity – a brief spell in his life where he had been useful and able to work without the complexity of papers. He had joined the Sweepers and been fed three times a day and had been able to save some money from his meagre wage. It had been a good time in Duo's life. But just like all good times in his life, it had not lasted long and Duo had struggled to find decent work since an unstable peace had been established. And when he did get work, it was always short gigs, and then he was back to being unemployed.

Least Hilde was willing to let him live in her apartment, rent due whenever he had it, as Duo cooked and cleaned for her when she worked. Without her, he'd be hustling on the streets like he had when he was a kid. He'd promised Solo he would never go back to that and Duo had tried desperately never to break that promise.

So when Duo found a job, even if it wasn't exactly the most "normal", he was quite happy to take it. Even though he was wearing a ridiculous costume – he supposed at least he wasn't dressed as a banana or a hotdog as the phallic imagery would've been far too much. Instead, he was tight black spandex and leather, a form fitting superhero outfit adorning his body as he stood in the heart of L2's entertainment and shopping district.

L2 was in a state of post-war expansion, it was the "up and coming" colony due to large investments from the Winner Corporation and so there were lots of new clubs, music venues and shops all vying for attention and pay customers. Of course, there were plenty of ways to advertise but the club that Duo worked for was going for something unique and old fashioned.

The Bat-Cave was a bar and music venue and so Duo's outfit was some kind of Bat-Dude superhero guy to link to it. It was tight and black with a cape flowing behind him that appeared like bat wings and a hood and a mask over his eyes to obscure his face. He looked good in it, Duo couldn't deny it, though he did feel slightly annoyed that he had to hide his braid of hair down the back of the costume. His boss, a guy known simply as Barton, thought it didn't match the outfit so had forced Duo to hide his hair. Duo thought about complaining then he realised – he had a job and a good paying one at that. There was no point in doing something to fuck it up. No reason at all.

The job itself was a damn easy one if not ridiculous. Duo ran around and gave out leaflets and stickers advertising the club. That was it. It sometimes did end up slightly more complicated than that if only a little. As some people wanted photographs and some people would tip him to jump around like an idiot. And Duo would do it as what the hell – he was finally making enough money to pay Hilde and life was good.

Or it was good.

Until he arrived.

Duo supposed it was simple economics. That if one business found success with this form of advertising then someone else would copy that. And it surprised Duo that it had taken so long for a rival to appear. Though that surprise didn't make Duo happy. Not at all.

He had liked being that guy – the guy that people remembered and took pictures of and smiled at. And now not all that attention was directed at Duo anymore. Some of it was directed at Spandex Boy, the less than flattering nickname that Duo had given his rival.

Spandex Boy, as his nickname suggested, wore a form fitting costume that clung to his defined and chiselled body in a white, red and blue combination, a cape shaped like wings flowing behind him. Unlike Duo, nothing obscured his face apart from a sweep of chocolatey brown hair and his jaw was always set in a grim and serious expression. He never smiled, he only glared with piercing blue eyes and Duo soon grew annoyed at Spandex Boy. Partly because some of his attention had been diverted to the task of getting the "serious dude" to smile but mostly because he was far too fucking gorgeous. It was unfair.

Everyday Duo saw him, his eyes, his tanned skin and that tight outfit and his mind would drift to a sordid little place where costumes ended up around ankles and bodies slapped together. And it was infuriating Duo. As Spandex Boy did not talk.

Of course, despite Duo's annoyance of a rival on his turf, he had been polite to the newcomer. He'd tried to strike up conversation. Waved in his direction. But Spandex Boy did not reciprocate. Apparently he was too good for that. This just infuriated Duo even more. And each day he went to work he grew more resentful of his costumed rival.

The competition meant Duo's tips had lessened and he wasn't able to give away quite as many leaflets and stickers. The guy was even hurting his job. A job Duo liked and earned good money from. He seriously had to do something. Then an idea came to him.

Spandex Boy was stood in what Duo supposed was meant to be a "heroic" pose, hands on hips, when Duo approached. There was no acknowledgement from those blue eyes, they looked right through him but Duo didn't care. He had his pitch to say.

"I think we should work together a little. Put on some pretend fights. Get a buddy to film it and get some interest online. Sure we can make more money together, right?"

Those blue eyes blinked and there was a small nod in response. A deal was made. And the next day it begun.

Duo discovered a few things about Spandex Boy – that he was called Heero and had fought in the war, too. He'd seen a wound when they'd practiced a few moves together, meeting in a park in normal clothes before "work" and Duo had shown his own scars. They said no more about it, only saw each other in different lights now they were out of their superhero costumes.

That night, the entertainment centre busy, they started their "fight". Hilde had come along, phone camera on, and Duo had thrown the first punch only for it to be countered with one by Heero, hard and fast in the stomach. Kicks followed, hands around necks and pushes against walls. By the end of the "fight" a crowd had gathered and tips were flowing when they separated from one another, ruffled but perfectly fine. Duo's scheme had worked and when he looked over at Heero, he could see the smallest of smiles on his face. A smile that Duo replicated with his own grin as he realised the potential of their choreographed street fight escapades.

Or that's what he convinced himself he was grinning for. Not because Heero's body had been close to his own and that he had made the ice man smile. Nope – it definitely was not that.

The next night people paid them to start and the night after that more people came. People chose sides, brought signs supporting their favoured combatant and the Bat-Cave was even more popular than ever. Especially when Duo made a appearance in the night, returning home like a returning champion if he defeated Heero, or having a consoling whiskey if he failed. People lapped it up.

L2 needed a hero. Needed an distraction from uneasy peace and rebuilding and if Duo and Heero were it, then Duo was fine with that.

But some people weren't.

They heckled. They threw stuff at them. And soon Duo felt like he was being followed home some nights. He stopped walking home in his costume, changing at the Bat-Cave, afraid of being ganged up and beaten the shit out of. He knew what they thought, he'd heard the word "faggots" shouted and Duo could only roll his eyes and try to protect himself. He'd really hoped that shit would die out. But it seemed damn prejudice never did.

While Duo changed from his costume to leave at the end of the night, Heero didn't, defiant, his eyes saying that those assholes could try anything but he was untouchable. And Duo really did hope he was. He really did.

It was late when Duo changed and headed out of the Bat-Cave, ready to make the journey home. It felt good to be "him" again, his leather jacket and beaten up skate shoes having seen better days. Duo slouched as he walked, his hands in his pockets and his stomach growled as he thought of a midnight snack when he arrived back at Hilde's. He was thinking of sandwich fillings when he heard it. The sound of a gang of idiots trying to tease and goad something. And Duo could figure out who they were trying to rile.

"No fucking way," he muttered as he turned and followed that sound.

It wasn't far, an alleyway, and there were seven guys versus one Heero. Duo could see Heero, backed into a corner, his stance on high alert and ready to pounce. He may be cornered but Duo did not fear for Heero. He feared for the idiots who were trying to corner him. He'd felt how strong Heero was, being pushed to the ground and accidently punched a few times. These guys stood no chance..

"Leave him alone, assholes."

Duo had their attentions, their eyes fixated on him.

"Move along, punk. We got some business."

"Business, huh," Duo said casually, stepping forward, his steps lazy, "what business do you have with him? It don't seem friendly."

"It's not friendly. Now scram before we have business with you."

Duo met Heero's eyes, no need for words and then laughed as he directed his attention to the little gang. "Naw… I ain't gonna scram. As if you have business with him, you have business with me too."

There was a moment of confusion on the gangs part, of being annoyed at the interruption and that their plan was suddenly not going to plan and Heero used it to his advantage. As they had said a lot in that meeting of gazes. Just like every night. Just like we practice.

The first punch was harder than any Duo had ever taken from Heero. It knocked one guy down, hitting the floor with a clatter of bones and the rattle of a blade. Duo followed suit, elbowing the nearest guy in the face and taking the legs from under another with a swift kick. By the time Duo looked up, there were a pile of bodies between them, groaning and complaining, and Heero was stood as defiant as he always was, his white winged cape fluttering behind him.

"You want another round?" Duo teased.

They didn't as they scrambled to their feet, leaving the alleyway without looking back and Duo waved sarcastically. "Shouldn't have taken on L2's best superhero team!" he shouted in their wake.

Chuckling under his breath, he turned as he heard Heero approach behind him.

"You okay?"

Heero nodded. "I didn't need your help. I could've done it alone."

"But you didn't need to, asshole, we're a team, remember? Geez, at least you could thank me…"

Heero scowled and then his face softened as he considered Duo's words. With no warning, Duo felt Heero's body close, pushing him towards the wall of the alley and he felt Heero's breath against his face. A second later he felt the contact of Heero's lips on his own, a swipe of a tongue and the feel of a spandex clad leg between his thighs. Instinct took over, Duo grabbing for that hair he had fantasied about and he opened his mouth, meeting Heero's tongue, swirling, tasting before teeth nipped at lips.

Eyes blown, breath erratic, Duo stared at Heero as their lips parted, their bodies still pressed together.

"What the hell was that?"

"A thank you," Heero replied, a smirk on his face and a glint in his deep blue eyes.

"Well you can thank me again…"

"Not here. Back at mine," Heero said bluntly, he ground his crotch against Duo's, the sensation making Duo buck and demand more friction. Yet he figured why Heero wanted some privacy.

"Can't hide a hard on in spandex, can you?" Duo teased, a grin on his face.

Heero didn't answer. Only pecked at Duo's lips before stepping away and starting the walk home. And as Duo leaned against the alleyway wall and watched Heero attempt to, huh, "adjust" himself, Duo only grinned. This whole superhero costume gig really was the best job he'd ever had.


End file.
